The Story Went Wrong (But Maybe We Can Fix It)
by Sealure
Summary: The whole story is so wrong, and he knows (really, he does) that he should be trying harder to save it, but it's all just so broken and backwards and...well, he's really just not sure about anything anymore. DARK GOLDEN AGE AU. Angst with a happy ending, no slash or incest!
1. This Can't Be How It Was Meant To Be

_**Okay, guys.**_

 **This is officially the darkest thing I have ever written. It's based off of a spectacular story called _Poisoned Chalice_ by the magnificent Keketra. You guys need to go check it out! It's great. Like, really awesome. **

**So, this is my take on a Dark!Narnia.**

 **Basically, just brace yourselves.**

 **DISCLAIMER: All Narnia characters belong to CS Lewis. The original plot ideas go to Keketra.**

 **WARNINGS: Mind manipulation. Dark magic, blood, and fratricide. Temporary insanity. BUT THERE IS A HAPPY ENDING!**

* * *

 _The Story Went Wrong (But Maybe We Can Fix It)_

* * *

The Four are eating dinner all together for the first time in months. Edmund's been leading a campaign in the West to defeat the last of the Fell Creatures while Peter fought the Giants up North. Lucy has successfully reclaimed all of Narnia's Eastern provinces—even the farthest reaches of the Lone Islands—while Susan stayed back at Cair Paravel to keep an eye on things.

For the first time since their reign began nearly nine years ago, there is peace across all of Narnia.

Susan smiles distantly at something Edmund says while Peter almost snorts wine out his nose. Edmund snickers at his older brother and tries to sneak a gulp from the High King's goblet.

"Hey, no wine for you!" the older boy neatly sweeps it out of reach with a grin.

"Peter!" Edmund protests, ignoring Lucy's impish grin—but she's looking a little pale, and hasn't eaten a single thing or spoken a single word all night and she's actually managed to rip holes in the tablecloth with her fingernails and—he makes a mental note to talk with her after the meal. She's clearly desperately upset about something. "I'm nearly twenty!"

"But not yet!" the High King exclaims with a wicked smile. "When you turn twenty, I promise you, you can drink as much wine as you want to. I can also promise you that you will deeply regret it in the morning."

Edmund pretends to pout, but he knows his sparkling eyes are giving away his true feelings. "Be that way," he sniffs.

Peter laughs. "I will, thank you very mu—" he doubles over, coughing harshly.

Edmund rolls his eyes. "You know, Brother," he says mockingly. "If you swallowed _before_ you breathed, maybe you'd quit inhaling wine into your lungs."

"Ed—" Peter gasps, goblet crashing to the floor, splattering blood-red wine all over Susan's golden skirt. He reaches for her, but she backs away.

"Peter?" Something's not right. "Peter?!"

Edmund screams as Peter falls to the floor, choking and coughing up blood. He crashes to his knees beside his brother's convulsing form.

"No, no, no!" he shouts frantically. "Come on, Pete! You can't do this to me! No, no—Lucy!" he twists around, locking eyes with the Healer. "Lucy, you have to—you have to—" his voice dies as he sees her.

She's got tears streaming from her eyes, hands clamped over her mouth. Susan's hand rests on her shoulder, lightly restraining.

"I'm sorry, Edmund," the Gentle Queen says, face cold and voice impassive. "But he had planned to poison you and forge treaties with Calormen, selling our people as slaves. He planned to turn on Aslan and follow the wretched Tash."

Edmund shakes his head desperately. "No. No, he wouldn't have. That's not possible. He…"

Lucy sobs, and it sounds painful. "I'm so sorry, Ed," she says softly, defeated. "I saw the letters and plans myself. I never—I would _never_ have done this otherwise. He was going to kill you, Ed. And then us."

Edmund stares at her, cradling Peter's upper body in his lap. The older boy's breath is slowing down.

"You—you did this?" Edmund asks her numbly.

Peter gasps for breath, lips turning blue and betrayal in his eyes as he stares at the Silver Queen.

She starts forwards, eyes flooding with a fresh wave of tears. "I'm so sorry, I had no choice—"

"Of course you didn't, Lucy," Susan's hand tightens on her shoulder, pulls her back, prevents her from going to Peter's side. "You never would have done this without the proof." She turns her cold eyes to Edmund. "I can show you the letters and the plans, Edmund. It is undeniable."

"No!" Edmund shouts. He looks down at Peter, and the older boy is barely conscious. "Hold on, Pete," he chokes. "For the love of Aslan, hold on just a little longer."

Peter stares at him intensely, blue eyes alight with love. He raises one shaking hand and gently cups Edmund's face. Then his hand drops like a stone and his eyes go out.

Lucy folds in half and crumples to the floor, sobs wracking her slender frame.

Edmund feels his tears overflow. "No," he murmurs. "No, Peter, please…" His pleas rise in volume and desperation until he's screaming, and Lucy clamps her hands over her ears. Her sobs are utterly silent.

Susan's face could have been carved of marble.

She sweeps out of the room, returning in a few minutes with some guards. "Please take Lucy to her rooms," she tells a Centaur to her left.

The massive grey stallion, Varen, steps forwards and lifts Lucy to her feet.

"Wait," she says, and reaches for Edmund. He jerks away, and she looks as though her world is burning down around her. "I had to, Edmund, don't you see?" she pleads. "He would've killed you!"

He stares at her, shakes his head wordlessly, and she allows Varen to pull her from the room.

Susan sighs, drawing Edmund to his feet and wrapping her arms around him.

He tries not to notice how much it reminds him of the Witch's icy embrace.

* * *

The funeral is a nightmare.

The condolences are all nightmares.

The months that follow…he doesn't know a word strong enough to describe them.

It's terrible. It's all his worst nightmares come to life and playing out right before his eyes.

Aslan comes to the funeral, and Susan's face is white as death when He finally turns away from her. And Lucy…Edmund doesn't know what He says to her, but the Silver Queen bolts as though her life depends on it. She disappears across the horizon of her Sea and doesn't come back for three weeks.

To Edmund himself, the Lion says only, "You brought him peace, Edmund. Have no fear, Dear One. You will see him again."

Edmund can only assume whatever lie Susan came up with held firm, because she is still alive when the Lion departs.

He does not come back.

* * *

When he is not traveling or holding court, the Western King spends much of his time wandering the Cair.

Susan takes the throne as the High Queen, as is her right as eldest. She is cold and impervious to all emotions, it seems. She is known as the Gentle Demise, and no other country dares to oppose her, or threaten her remaining siblings. The ones that do have a nasty habit of dying bloody in their sleep.

Lucy becomes a shadow of herself, always smiling and bringing joy to those around her, but her eyes have turned a very sickly dark green, like a poisoned sea, and they are dead. Her smiles are fragile and sharp, and they will cut you if you get too close.

Edmund tries not to notice how Susan's political opponents never survive more than two days after Lucy arrives to visit their lands.

(He tries not to remember that one time he went to her rooms to ask her about it and found her in a heap on the floor, bloodstained hands ripping at her hair, silent sobs wracking her emaciated frame, and blood-soaked dagger on the floor before her. He doesn't go to Lucy's rooms anymore.)

Other realms have begun to call the younger Queen the Whisper of Death for two reasons: one, because she is never heard, never seen, never caught, and thus, can never be blamed for the deaths, and two, no one dares speak of her, not even in a whisper. He tries not to think about the monster Susan has turned their beautiful, bright Lucy into.

He himself holds court, and conducts diplomatic negotiations and lives his life as though nothing has changed.

But he doesn't drink wine. And Susan's "proof" is laughably flimsy—well, to him. To seventeen-year-old Lucy, who trusts in Susan with all her heart, and who never took much interest in the political matters anyway, it would have been all the proof she needed.

Not to mention it was backed by several of Peter's most "loyal" soldiers and guards.

(It is mentioned that it took Susan the better part of three months just to convince Lucy that the horrible suspicion was, in fact, true. Then it was another two full months to coax her into helping end the life of the High King.)

He does know that Lucy—now a brilliant politician and spy, the Whisper of Death, Susan's perfect weapon—has not looked over the letters since Peter's death.

It wasn't possible for her to do so.

Susan burned them the day after she showed them to Edmund.

Wouldn't do to have her new weapon turning on _her_ now, would it?

Edmund watches her rule with an iron fist, knowing that this whole story is _so very wrong_. But there is nothing he can do about it.

So he just judges his court and negotiates with diplomats and tries not to see the bloodstains on Lucy's fingers.

(He knows he should probably be trying harder to save her, but she poisoned Peter, and he doesn't really know what to do about anything anymore.)

* * *

They go after the White Stag.

The creature is beautiful and wild and pure, and Edmund doesn't say it aloud, but he really hopes they don't catch it.

Especially Susan. He doesn't know what she would do with it, but he knows it won't be good.

Lucy…she'll just do whatever Susan tells her to. There's an emptiness to her eyes, now, a deadness that only sparks to life when she's snuffing someone else's out.

But when the Stag runs right between him and his little sister, it playfully nudges her leg, and Edmund nearly falls off his Horse when a tiny _real_ smile pulls at the corner of Lucy's mouth, and her eyes become alive again with the light that she used to possess so much of.

But then Susan draws her bow and lets an arrow fly. She misses, but the sharp _thwack!_ of an arrow striking a Tree—and the Dryad's subsequent scream of pain—and his sister is gone as quickly as she'd appeared.

Susan's puppet is firmly back in place.

He shakes his head and concentrates on _not_ catching the Stag.

* * *

When they spill out through the wardrobe doors, Edmund can only stare at his hands—his very small, very weak hands.

He looks around him, but only Susan and Lucy are with him.

He feels his heart sink. _What in the name of the Lion are we going to tell Mum? So sorry, Mum, but your oldest daughter went power-mad and murdered your son for his throne and then turned your youngest child into an insane, psychotic assassin and I didn't do anything because I was afraid I'd be the next name crossed off her list. My bad._

He slowly pries himself to his feet.

Susan flies up and nearly falls over, unused to being so small. "What is this?" she whispers, face paling even farther. "What have you done?!" she half-screams at Lucy, who's staring at her own hands.

"They're clean," she whispers hoarsely, twisting them this way and that like she can't believe her eyes. "They're clean."

Edmund feels nausea crawling up his throat. "Lucy," he says carefully. "You always clean your hands very well."

She looks at him. Her eyes are still too green. "All the stains are gone," she tells him.

He looks away from her as the door opens and the Professor walks in.

"Ah," he says quietly. "There you are. Come along now, if you please." He gestures out towards the hall, and Susan's eyes catch fire.

"You have no idea to whom you—" she begins, but the Professor sighs.

"I understand exactly to whom I speak, My Lady," he says, just as quiet. "Now, if you please. You are needed in my office."

Susan closes her mouth and backs away from the man, but Lucy is staring at him with her head tilted to one side.

"I know you," she says, and she sounds so much like the child she was that Edmund wants to cry. "Don't I?"

Professor Digory crouches down in front of her and lets her see that his hands are empty before he slowly and carefully tucks her hair behind her ears. She lets him.

"Yes, Majesty," he says gravely. "You do know me. Although, if you'll pardon my saying so, I don't think you know yourself very well anymore, my Queen."

It does not escape Edmund's notice that he calls Lucy a Queen, but Susan was only a Lady.

From the way Lucy blinks slowly, she saw it, too.

Susan has already swept out of the room and down the stairs.

Her scream echoes through the entire house, and the two youngest are moving before they consciously decide to. They run down the stairs, yanking weapons off the wall as they go: Edmund a sword, Lucy a dagger.

They burst into the Professor's office in perfect sync, Lucy dropping low like the predator she is with her knife wound back and ready to fly and Edmund above her, sword raised.

But Edmund's sword hits the floor pretty quick when he sees just what has Susan so terrified.

Peter is sitting on the sofa, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders and a mug of hot chocolate on the table before him. His blue eyes are full of pain and sorrow, and they are pinning Susan in place.

The once-queen is as pale as snow, and her mouth is frozen in her scream of horror.

The High King turns at the sound of Edmund's blade crashing to the floor, and love washes over his face as he smiles.

"Ed," he croaks, holding out his arms.

"Peter!" Edmund sobs, flying across the room and into his brother's chest for the first time in six years. "Peter! You're alright!"

"I was perfectly healed the moment I fell out of the wardrobe," the oldest boy whispers against Edmund's hair. "Aslan spoke to me before He brought me back. He explained everything." He looks back up at Susan and offers her a tiny smile. "I forgive you, Sister Mine."

She staggers backwards, then flees up the stairs. Her door slams.

Lucy is still standing in the doorway, knife held loosely in one hand. Her eyes are very wide as she looks back and forth between Peter and Edmund.

She is not stupid.

She can connect the dots.

But both of them can see that she's desperately trying not to.

"Edmund?" she says finally. "What's going on?"

Edmund swallows hard. "Susan lied, Lucy," he says, deciding that it's probably best to just go for it.

She stares at him some more, and her blade clatters to the floor. "What?" she whispers. Her face drains of color alarmingly fast, and she nearly falls, fingers latching desperately onto the doorframe.

"No," she murmurs, soft and broken. "No. No. No, no, no. She didn't. She wouldn't. She is the Queen and her word is law. She is my queen. She would not. She would not. She would not."

Peter looks like he's about to be ill. "Lion's Mane," he whispers, but just the mention of the Lion is enough to send Lucy scuttling backwards, crashing into a bookshelf and desperately shaking her head.

"I didn't!" she cries. "I didn't do it, I didn't, He was _wrong_! She wouldn't! She couldn't have! If she did it means I—it means that I—NO!"

Peter's face is as white as hers, and tears glitter in his eyes. "My God," he rasps. "What has she done to you?"

She stares at him for a long moment. "You never meant to kill Edmund or ally with Calormen, did you?" she asks, more lucid than she's been in years.

Peter shakes his head.

Lucy nods for a long time.

Then she collapses to the floor and is violently ill.

"Oh God," she half-screams, half-laughs, sounding every bit as mad as she is. "Oh, _God._ I—I _killed you_." Her hands start ripping at her hair. "And all those _people_ —" she retches again.

Peter falters when he tries to rise to his feet, and Edmund is quick to support him. The oldest boy's eyes are fixed on Lucy. "Lucy!" he calls, but she doesn't hear him, rocking back and forth and sobbing and muttering, "No, no, no, I killed them all, I killed them all, I killed them all, I killed them, I killed them, _I killed them!"_ until she's howling it, screaming and shrieking and sobbing, all of the pain and horror of the past six years spilling out in a poisonous flood.

"What did she _do_ to her?!" Peter sobs, crashing to his knees beside her and _forcing_ her hands away from her head. There are little flecks of blood under her nails—she's cut herself. Peter drags her into his arms and rocks her, shushing her as best he can.

She's still screaming.

Edmund shakes his head. "I didn't even think she was capable of feeling anything except what Susan told her to anymore," he says.

He realizes a moment later that that probably wasn't the best thing to say when Peter shoves Lucy into his arms and is rather violently ill himself.

 _We really are going to have to apologize to the Professor,_ Edmund thinks distantly. _We are making a horrid mess of his floor._

Then he realizes that he's holding Lucy. He hasn't held Lucy in years. She quieter now, clinging to him with guttural, painful, silent sobs wracking her tiny frame.

"I'm sorry," she gasps out weakly, fingers curling into his collar. "I'm so sorry, Eddy."

His heart leaps. "Lu?" he asks, voice trembling. Was it…could it be? Had Aslan returned his Lucy to him at last?

She cries harder. "I'm sorry," she repeats, sounding like a broken record. "Aslan, I'm so, so very sorry. You were right. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

"Lucy," Peter says, voice rough with tears and exhaustion. He's standing before them now.

She pulls away from Edmund and throws herself down at Peter's feet. "I'm sorry!" she cries. "I'm so, so so—" her sobs take over again, and she covers her face with her hands. "I let her words manipulate me and destroy the trust and faith I had, not only in you, but in Aslan as well. I murdered you, My King! I betrayed—" she gives a gutwrenching cry, the sound of a breaking heart. "I betrayed the Lion! I betrayed Aslan!"

Peter falls to his knees and lifts her face.

She won't look at him.

"Face me, Daughter of Eve," he says, and if he squints just right, Edmund can see a crown of gold on his brow.

She is trembling. "I dare not," she whispers.

Peter's voice gentles. "If ever you held any love for me in your heart, Valiant Queen of the Eastern Sea, I bid you raise your head in the name of Aslan."

She raises her head. She is still trembling head to foot, but her eyes are the color of a stormy sea, and there is more life and sanity in them than there has been since Susan first began to twist her soul.

Peter's eyes are blazing now. "Aslan spoke with me before He returned me to this place," he said gravely. "He explained all to me. He told me how Susan manipulated you, and how long you resisted. He told me of the drug she slipped into your food, to make you more compliant. How you still fought it for so long that she at last turned to the dark arts, enlisting a Hag to bend your will to hers. But the spirit of the Valiant is not so easily subdued. So she had the wretched creature enslave your mind. But you still would not give in. So Susan decided—" Peter closes his eyes and swallows hard. "Susan ordered the creature to shatter your sanity and cloud your mind. You are remembering and feeling things much clearer now, are you not?"

Lucy stares down at her hands in wonder. "I am," she whispers. The tears come again, but they are softer. "I can—I can think. My thoughts—they are my own again."

Peter's heartbreak is visible in his eyes. "Oh, Lucy," he says brokenly. "Those things she made you do…I blame you not, my beautiful Valiant Queen." He strokes her hair and wipes her tears. "I blame you not," he repeats.

She leans into his hands, then opens her eyes and gives him a smile.

It is kind and compassionate and absolutely, completely _Lucy_ , and Edmund crashes to his knees, sobbing as a thousand emotions slam into him all at once. He feels like he's going to be ill.

No sooner has the thought crossed his mind than gentle hands are stroking back his hair, and a beautiful voice is singing softly in his ears. Lucy hasn't sung for years, and the sound brings back memories of crashing waves and laughing merfolk. Long days sailing the clear blue waters of the Eastern Sea.

He can feel his heart rate slowing, but he can't stop the tears.

"What's wrong with me?" he asks shakily, and Lucy's voice hitches.

"I'm sorry," she says, voice very small. "You were nosing around. I gave you—" she sniffs hard, and when she speaks again, her voice is firm and confident, like the Queen she once was. "Susan forced me to mix a draught for you. It was administered to you at breakfast every day. It kept you docile and apathetic to everything happening around you. It completely dampened all of your emotions. She said—" Lucy takes a deep breath, and there is _anger_ in her next words. "She said it was to keep you safe. I believed her."

"Not your fault, Lu," he says, and oh, it feels good to be able to call her that again, to look at her and see _Lucy_ looking back at him, not Susan's twisted puppet.

She leans her forehead against his, her tears still falling like rain and mixing with his. "I'm still so sorry," she says. "I killed so many innocent people, Eddy."

He wraps his arms around her, and Peter around them both, and that's how the Professor finds them hours later.

* * *

It takes Edmund and Lucy months to recover from Susan's betrayal and torture. Edmund is easily overwhelmed by the full spectrum of his emotions, since they've been thoroughly locked down for the better part of six years.

Lucy drives herself from her bed screaming almost every night, memories of the horrors she committed in Susan's name running through her head.

Peter or Edmund—or both, as the case usually is—find her on her knees in the bathroom, retching and sobbing out apologies to the dead.

They take her back to Peter's room, and all three pile on the bed with Lucy in the middle, clinging to Edmund with Peter behind her, holding tight to both of them. The oldest boy whispers stories to them of the Golden Days, when they danced on Midsummers Eve with the Dryads and the Fauns and the Stars. Of the days when Aslan was no stranger to the court of Cair Paravel.

Edmund's heart eases when Lucy stops flinching at the mention of the Lion. There is still pain in her eyes, but the fear is fading fast now.

(It occurs to him now that no matter how she feared Aslan, there was never any hatred in her eyes when His name was spoken. Not like Susan.)

There is one night, however, when all three of them share a dream.

They are at the site of Aslan's camp during the war with the Witch, where they met the Lion for the first time. Peter and Edmund are standing down by the tents, looking up the hill where Aslan stands…with Lucy sobbing into His mane. The Lion is shedding golden tears of his own, and His great paw is wrapped around her, and she is clinging to Him as though she will never let go.

Edmund starts to run forward, but Peter catches him gently. "Let her have a moment longer," he says, and his eyes are bright with joy and tears when Edmund looks up at him.

After an endless heartbeat, the Lion and the girl walk down the hill to them. Her fingers are twisted in His mane, and her eyes are _finally_ back to the crystal blue-green they're supposed to be. There's still something a little broken in them, but Edmund thinks that little bit won't be entirely fixed until the day they step foot in Aslan's Country.

She offers him a beaming smile and flies into his arms. He holds her tight as he meets the Lion's gaze over her head.

"Thank you, Aslan," he says hoarsely. He knows there are tears streaking down his face, but it's Aslan.

The Lion steps forward and breathes on him, and he can feel his pain and anguish and grief and anger fade away. He does the same for Peter, and the oldest boy wraps the youngers in his arms.

"Be at peace, Sons of Adam," the Lion says gently, sitting down in front of them. "Be at peace, Daughter of Eve. In your true hearts, you remained loyal to Me. The False Queen has strayed far from the path I had set for her, but this was no fault of your own. You are My children, and I love you dearly. Never forget that."

"Is there any hope at all for Susan?" Lucy asks, going forwards and curling up between the Lion's front paws as she used to. Peter laughs and follows suit, leaning against Aslan's side with Edmund next to him.

Aslan purrs and lies down, curling around them. "Yes, Dear Heart," He says, kissing her forehead. "There is always hope and forgiveness. One day she will remember, and I will be waiting."

Lucy nods, pressing her face into His mane and closing her eyes. "I'm glad," she whispers. "I do still love her, though it is so very hard to even look at her now."

Aslan's golden eyes are full of pain, and a single tear falls into Lucy's hair. "She will need that love, Lucy, before the end."

Peter's arm tightens around Edmund. "I don't know if I can forgive her, Aslan," he says, voice tortured. "For what she did to myself…that's not a problem, of course I forgive her for that. But what she did to Lucy and Edmund…" he shakes his head. "I think I'll rather be needing Your help for that. It's a bit too much for myself."

Aslan touches His nose to Peter's brow, and he straightens as the strength of the Lion floods through him. "My help you shall always have," Aslan tells all three of them. "Until the end of time. Once a King or Queen of Narnia, always a King or Queen."

Lucy smiles, bright and joyful and _whole_ , and Edmund can't help the giddy laugh that bubbles out of him.

"Does that mean…" Peter's eyes are very wide.

Aslan laughs. "Yes, you will return someday. And there will be no more deception and hatred. It will be as it was in the first years between the three of you. The land itself is much changed, but I will guide you on your way. Trust Me, as you once did, as you always have, and I will make straight your paths."

"We trust you, Aslan," Lucy says simply, her faith glowing in her eyes.

The Lion purrs. "I know, Dear One."

"Will you stay with us?" Edmund asks Him. "Just a little while longer?"

"Yes," Aslan meets his eyes. "I am always with you, even when you cannot see Me."

"I will never doubt it again," he says hoarsely. "Forgive me for my unbelief?"

"All is forgiven, My Child," Aslan assures him. "All is forgiven," He says to Lucy, and her smile makes the sun look dim.

They stay there with the Lion until they fall asleep, waking in England again but unable to mind it because now they have a promise of returning home someday.

* * *

Susan stays even further away from them than usual that day, while the Professor smiles widely at them as soon as they walk into the kitchen for breakfast, and Edmund knows that they can see the golden glow of the Lion around them.

Even the Macready seems less….well, like the Macready.

Susan excuses herself early, but Lucy slides out of her chair and runs to her before she can escape. She throws her arms around her waist with all the exuberance of her youth, and Susan freezes in shock.

"I love you still, Sister-Mine," the Silver Queen whispers fiercely. "And all is forgiven in my heart."

She releases her and places a kiss on the older girl's forehead. "By the grace of the Lion, may the Gentle return to us soon," she says with a beautiful smile.

Tears start to flow down Susan's cheeks, and when she turns to look at the boys, she finds only soft smiles full of love.

Lucy squeezes one of her hands. "When you are ready," she says, "Aslan will be waiting for you. As will I."

"As will I," Edmund crosses the room to kiss her cheek, taking her other hand.

"As will we all," Peter says. The High King presses a kiss to her forehead and holds her tight for a moment. "The Love of the Lion guide you home soon, Sister."

They smile at her again, then let her go.

She stares at them for a long time. "I—" she starts, then bursts into sobs and runs up the stairs.

The boys sigh, staring after her, but Lucy's eyes are sparkling. "She'll be back," she says confidently. "He's already got to work on her heart. It'll be as warm as it used to be soon, just you wait."

And Edmund and Peter exchange grins. Oh, they have _missed_ the girl who trusted Aslan with all of her heart. Her unwavering faith is back, and Lion have mercy on any who try to sway it again, because the Valiant Queen will have none.

* * *

Lucy doesn't wake them with her screams that night, and on realizing this the next morning, they run down the hall to her room and burst through her door—only to freeze in place.

Susan is already there, curled up under the covers with her arms wound securely around Lucy.

Both girls have tearstains on their faces, but Lucy's lips are lifted in a smile, and the brothers barely exchange a desperately hopeful look before they leap onto the bed, on top of the girls.

There's a lot of shrieking and laughing in the next few minutes, and when they settle down, Susan promptly bursts into tears, sobbing out apologies to them and Aslan.

They surround her and smother her in hugs, forgiveness, and love, and before long somebody accidentally pokes Lucy in the stomach and she shamelessly starts a tickle war—which she loses horribly when all three of her older siblings gang up on her.

They're all a laughing, crying mess at the end of it, but the bonds of love and family have been restored, and when they grow quiet, they can hear the Lion's purr.

Susan's tears overflow again, but she's smiling, and she knows that she has been forgiven.

She never does have a dream with the Lion, but that doesn't seem to make much difference with her.

The Gentle is back.

Well, mostly. Every now and again, her eyes will go cold, but Peter still rubs his chest with haunted eyes some mornings, and Edmund knows that he still shuts down sometimes, and they've all caught Lucy throwing knives outside before.

They're all still a little broken, but they'll be broken together, and that makes it okay.

* * *

 **Okay, first of all, I would apologize, but I'm not really sorry.**

 **Second of all, this is going to run all the way to Dawn Treader, at least. I don't know about Silver Chair or The Last Battle, but it probably will stop after Dawn Treader.**

 **The Prince Caspian installation is already written, so that'll be up...well, later today, I guess, cuz it's really FREAKING late right now and I honestly should be in bed. But anyway.**

 **Okay! So!**

 **Loved it, hated it, let me know!**

 **And don't forget to check out the original, _Poisoned Chalice,_ by Keketra! **

**Till next time!**


	2. This Feels So Much Better

**Alr** **ighty! Here's chapter two of my really screwed up Narnia!**

 **This one is a lot happier, guys. Like, a _lot_ happier. **

**It made me happy to write it.**

 **So I hope you enjoy!**

 **DISCLAIMER: All Narnia characters/places/events to CS Lewis, and the original plotline to the fabulous Keketra!**

 **ALSO. Forgot to mention this in chap 1, but I DO HAVE KEKETRA'S PERMISSION TO USE THIS IDEA! If you want to accuse me of plagiarism, you can go ask and Keketra will tell you that I did ask permission for this. So there. *blows raspberry like mature three-year-old***

 **WARNINGS: Mentioned past insanity/mental instability; a teeny little fight scene. AND FLUFF.**

* * *

 _Maybe Not Right, But Nowhere Near As Broken_

* * *

Nearly a year later, they're standing in the train station when Aslan quite abruptly deposits them all in Narnia.

Lucy lasts for all of three seconds before she screams in joy and throws caution and maturity to the wind, sprinting for the water. Her shoes, stockings, jacket, and hat she leaves strewn all across the beach, and she laughs as she dances in the Sea, kicking the water high and throwing out her arms as the sun sparkles through the drops raining down on her head.

Susan is barely a step behind her, and the boys a heartbeat after her.

There's a lot of splashing and dunking and general child play for a long moment, and then Peter notices Edmund staring up at the cliffs.

"Edmund?" Susan calls, concern in her voice.

"Where do you suppose we are?" the dark King asks them, and Lucy laughs so hard seawater starts coming out her nose.

"Where do you think?" Peter gasps around his own laughter.

"Well," Edmund says uncertainly. "I don't remember any ruins in Narnia. Do you, Lu?"

She sobers immediately and follows his gaze, brows furrowing. "None but the ones I made, and none of those were by the coast."

Susan flinches slightly, and without looking at her, Lucy entwines their fingers in a reminder of forgiveness. The older girl squeezes back and they wade to the shore.

"Well," Peter says with a shrug. "Let's climb up to see what we can find."

Edmund rolls his eyes and gives a far too large, mocking bow. "As you wish, your Highness," he drawls sarcastically, and Lucy giggles. Edmund shoots her a wink.

Susan falters for just a moment, then sweeps an incredibly graceful curtsy in Peter's direction. "After you, My Liege," she says, softly but firmly, and in her dark eyes he can see her non-verbal declaration of loyalty.

He holds out his arm, smiling rakishly as she takes it and he escorts her to the cliff.

Edmund scoffs. "Oh, what a gentleman."

Peter grins at him with no shame, reveling in the wide smiles and relaxed postures of his siblings. He'd been half afraid that returning to Narnia would reawaken all the horrible thoughts and feelings that the three of them had gone through during the last six years of their reign.

Susan's shoulders are held a little straighter, yes, and Edmund's expression is so slightly distant, and Lucy's eyes are just the slightest touch darker, but overall, they look far _better_ than they did in England.

"Up we go then!" the youngest says cheerfully, with a smack to Edmund's shoulder. "And really, Ed, you've got no room to be on about Peter when _you're_ the one who hasn't offered the lady your arm yet."

Susan and Peter have to laugh at his indignant face.

* * *

They haven't been wandering the ruins for more than ten minutes before Lucy figures out exactly where they are.

Cair Paravel.

It's been destroyed.

By catapults and battering rams, she and Edmund say.

It's all Peter can do not to cry.

Their chests are still in the treasure room, and Susan does cry when she sees that Peter has one as well.

"Which one of you did this?" she asks them, turning to Edmund and Lucy. Peter's heart breaks at the relief and guilt in her eyes, and he wraps an arm around her shoulders.

"I did," Lucy says softly, staring around the room. "You told me to be prepared for every situation, and I took that quite literally. But Mr. Tumnus took care of actually packing the trunks. He—" she blinks away tears. "He was also in charge of the statues, and Peter, yours looks like you would have if we hadn't—" She breaks off and turns into Susan's arms.

Peter kisses their foreheads and smiles at them gently. "You're a brick, Lu," he says. "Now, we had better get ready."

They nod at him with tearful smiles of their own, and hurry to their own chests.

"I was so tall," Lucy says with longing, holding up a golden dress.

"Well, you were older then," Susan says, examining one of her own.

"As opposed to hundreds of years later," Edmund says wryly as his favorite helmet falls down over his eyes. "When you're younger."

Lucy and Susan burst into giggles at how ridiculous he looks, and Peter shakes his head at all three of them. He opens his own chest, and feels more than sees the other three turn their eyes on him as he draws Rhindon from its sheath.

It glitters in the sun, unmarred by time.

"When Aslan bares His teeth, Winter meets its death," he says clearly, and the very air seems to sing with the ancient words.

"When He shakes His mane," Lucy says softly, "we shall have Spring again." Her eyes are swimming. "Everyone we knew—Mr. Tumnus and the Beavers—they're all gone." She sounds too young.

Susan hugs her as Peter sets his jaw. "I think it's time we found out what's really going on here," he says.

Edmund puts a hand on Lucy's shoulder. "Aslan warned us that the land would be much changed," he sighs. "I just…I didn't think it would be _this_ changed."

Susan sighs, tucking back an unruly strand of Edmund's hair. "Well, we'll simply have to do the best we can with what we've got," she says firmly. "At least we know where we are. We have clothes and weapons, and plenty of apples to eat. That sounds like a good start."

"Right," Peter straightens up. "Get changed, you lot. Then we can figure out where to go from here."

"Aye, Sire," Lucy and Edmund murmur and move off towards their chests.

Susan smiles at him and squeezes his hand before she follows them.

Peter stares up at his statue, seeing a tall and strong warrior, a King of renown and power. He looks down at himself and sees only a boy. He looks at the others.

Edmund's statue is strong, but distant, deathly loyal to his Queen. The boy himself is so much stronger, and loyal to the Lion.

Lucy's statue is silent, eerie, and _wrong,_ loving nothing but the commands of her Queen. Its smile makes his teeth set on edge, and there is a madness to its eyes. The girl herself is beautiful and kind and compassionate, and the Lion is her only love.

Susan's statue looks as though it's made of ice, and the eyes are cold and cruel. The girl herself has eyes as warm as the Southern sun, and a smile that can melt the hardest heart.

He looks at himself again. Remembers that there were four thrones, not only one. A smile lifts the corners of his mouth, and he bends down and rummages around until he finds breeches and a tunic that will work.

He's the High King, but he's not the only Royal.

There are four of those.

* * *

They haven't got far from the Cair when they notice a rowboat. They all watch it carefully, but it's Susan's sharp eyes that see the Dwarf.

"They're going to drown him!" she cries, and draws her bow, sending an arrow flying into the side of the boat. "Drop him!" she thunders when the baffled soldiers look over at them. They throw him into the water instead, and Susan nocks another arrow.

Lucy's bow sings before hers can, and a soldier is down. The other one leaps out of the boat before she can fire again.

Edmund goes running towards the water, but Peter falters. Lucy's face is pale, and her eyes are full of pain. She sees him hesitating and gives him a warm smile. "I am the Valiant, Peter," she says firmly. "I am the Lion's."

He feels something in his chest loosen, and he nods before he flings himself into the water to retrieve the Dwarf.

It takes him a minute to get down and get a good grip on the Dwarf, but he's pulling him to shore soon enough. Ed's got the boat, and he jogs over as Susan borrows Lucy's dagger and cuts the poor creature free. He twists to his side, coughing up river water.

"Drop him?!" he roars. "That's the best you can come up with?!"

Susan is taken aback, and her hand clenches around Lucy's blade before she hands it back. "A simple 'thank you' would suffice," she says frostily, and the Dwarf scoffs.

"They were doing just fine drowning me without your help," he snarls.

And Peter is a lot of things, but patient isn't one of them. "Well maybe we should've let them," he snaps back.

The Dwarf looks a bit surprised, but there's a bit of respect there now, as well.

"Why were they trying to drown you anyway?" Lucy asks curiously.

He spits in the sand. "They're Telmarines. It's what they do."

Lucy's eyes go dangerously dark, and Edmund sucks in a sharp breath and Susan's face starts to harden, and Peter quickly concludes that Telmar was _not_ a friend of Narnia in the last days of their reign.

"Since when have the Telmarines been in Narnia?!" he asks incredulously.

Edmund squeezes Lucy's hand tight, enough to bring her back to herself.

"When—" the Dwarf gapes at them. "Where have _you_ lot been the last few hundred years?!"

"It's a bit of a long story, I'm afraid," Lucy sighs.

Susan hands Peter his sword, and he makes sure their fingers brush and their eyes meet. Not long, but enough to ground her. She gives him a grateful smile.

The Dwarf's eyes have locked onto Rhindon. "Oh, you have _got_ to be kidding me," he groans. "You're it? You're the Kings and Queens of Old?" But there's fear in his eyes beside the awe, and his hand is drifting towards his waist, like he's seeking a weapon that isn't there.

Peter nods, standing taller. "I am High King Peter, the Magnificent," he says. Then he glances down at himself and laughs. "Probably could've left off that last bit."

Lucy snorts and Edmund rolls his eyes and Susan sighs, rubbing the bridge of her nose, but she's smiling too.

The Dwarf's eyebrows go up. "That would make you the Just, then, would it not?" he addresses Edmund.

The younger boy winces and runs a hand through his hair. "Yes. But not so much during the last few years of our reign, I'm afraid."

"Don't be ridiculous, Ed," Susan says briskly. "You were still perfectly just. There was nothing wrong with your sense of morality."

He concedes with a nod.

"I am Susan, formerly the Gentle," Susan says with so much pain in her eyes that even the Dwarf could see it. "In my later years, I was known as—"

"The Gentle Demise," the Dwarf finishes. He regards her gravely. "You protected Narnia fiercely."

She gives him a tiny, sad smile. "But at far too high a cost."

He swallows hard and turns to Lucy, then blinks and looks again. "Surely not," he says in disbelief. "You cannot be the Mad Queen, the Whisper of Death."

Lucy flinches as though she's been struck, turning white as parchment. Edmund's sword is halfway out of its sheath when she stops him with a single gesture.

She sinks to her knees before the Dwarf. "Aye, that is what they called me," she says softly. "It took quite a while, but by the grace of the Lion, the madness was at last cleared away. I am once more the Valiant of the Eastern Sea."

He stares hard at her for a long moment. "There is still madness in your eyes," he murmurs, "but I do believe it's no more than every soldier's."

She smiles at him, and it's so real and _Lucy_ that he cannot help but give her one in return. "Broken we may be," she tells him. "But we are broken together. The strengths of my siblings cover my weaknesses, as my strengths do theirs. It is a balance, always." She gives a little self-deprecating laugh, then. "I had hoped that those last years would have been forgotten by now."

Edmund helps her back to her feet and wraps an arm around her shoulders.

"Was the truth never known?" Susan asks the Dwarf very softly. "Her actions were _not_ her own, and I would have it declared in every corner of the world that the Valiant Queen is innocent."

The Dwarf shakes his head. "No, the truth was told," he says. "It's just…Some of the tales are…disturbing, to say the least." He gives Lucy an apologetic look.

She smiles ruefully. "Those are probably the ones with the most truth to them," she admits freely. "Now, may we have your name, my good Dwarf?"

He blinks. "Ah. Of course. Trumpkin, at your service." He sketches a tiny, half-hearted bow, and Edmund rolls his eyes at Lucy.

"There's no need for that, Friend," Peter says, clapping Trumpkin's shoulder. "Come. There are some ripe apples up at the ruins. Lucy can dress that nasty wound for you, and after you've eaten you can tell us your tale."

Trumpkin shoots a glance at the river, as though he's seriously considering just jumping back in, but Lucy bites her lip and turns her puppy eyes on him, and he folds in moments.

But it's hard to be angry when the girl is smiling so brightly.

* * *

They set off as soon as Trumpkin has finished his tale. It's not a happy one, and Peter can feel the grief welling up in his heart for his people, his land.

Lucy's eyes are far too dark, and she's been flipping that dagger in her hand for at least the past hour of walking, and Trumpkin is making a point of staying as far away from her as he can.

Edmund walks close beside her, keeping her here and now, while Peter does the same for Susan.

They've been walking for several hours when Trumpkin works up the courage to ask where they're going.

Peter blinks. "Did I not mention that?"

They shake their heads, and he flushes. "Apologies. We make for the River Rush, my good Dwarf. If you last saw Caspian in the Shuddering Wood—even if he is no longer there—the swiftest way to arrive there is to cross at the Rush."

Trumpkin frowned thoughtfully. "Unless I'm mistaken, My Lord, there's no crossing in these parts."

Peter exchanges a long look with Edmund.

"Can't hurt to double check," Edmund offers. "And if Trumpkin is correct, we can simply follow the river."

Peter nods. "Alright then. Let's go on now, girls!"

* * *

 _That's…a long way down_ , Peter thinks, peering over the edge of the gorge.

"Is there a way down?" he hears Edmund ask in the background.

"Yeah. Falling," is Trumpkin's caustic reply, and he hears Lucy smother a laugh.

"Well, that's not gonna work," he says, turning around. "I was hoping you'd merely gotten your land a bit mixed up, what with nearly being drowned and all, but I should have known better." His mouth curves in a wry smile. "Never doubt a Dwarf when it comes to matters of the Earth." He bows to Trumpkin. "My apologies."

The Dwarf looks quite flustered. "Um, no need for all…that," he says awkwardly. "It was a sound strategy, well thought throu—"

"Aslan?" Lucy's voice cuts through. "Aslan! It is Him!"

She whirls around, face lit up. "It's Aslan! He's right over—" she falters as she turns back and there is nothing there.

"Do you see him now?" Trumpkin asks her, and Peter stiffens at the disrespect in his voice.

"I'm not crazy," Lucy says, half-desperately, half-seriously. "I did see Him. He wanted us to follow Him." She turns her eyes on her siblings, and Peter is not remotely surprised when Edmund is beside her in two strides.

"I believe you," he says simply, and all the terror drains out of her eyes.

"I…I didn't see Him," Susan says hesitantly. "And I was looking at the same time as you…"

Lucy's mouth turns down, in that way it does when she's upset about something. "Maybe you didn't really want to," she says softly. "Maybe you are as afraid to see Him again as I was, right when we first got back."

The Golden Queen takes a deep breath. "I didn't see Him," she repeats, "but I trust you."

They turn to Peter.

He smiles. "When it comes to Aslan, there is only one whose word I trust as much as His." He ruffles Lucy's hair, laughing at her mock offense. "If the Valiant says she's seen the Lion, then there is no doubt in my heart that she has seen the Lion. Where was He, Lu?"

Her face lights up all over again, and she walks back towards the edge. "I saw Him right about—"

The ground gives out beneath her, and in one horrible moment, she is gone.

"Lucy!"

"NO!"

"LU!"

"Milady!"

They all run like mad to where she fell and look down, expecting to find her slender body dashed to pieces upon the rocks—but she looks up at them, breathless, from a safe path that had been hidden by the bank.

"—here," she finishes with a little gasping laugh. "I saw Him here."

"Lucy!" Edmund drops down and wraps his arms around her. "Please don't do that again."

"Sorry, Ed," her voice is muffled by his tunic. "I promise I will do my best to not fall off of any other cliffs."

Peter has to laugh.

* * *

Peter's not laughing the next morning when he wakes up and Lucy is nowhere to be seen. He wakes Ed quickly, instructing him to rouse Susan and Trumpkin and follow him as soon as they can before he sets off in search of his wayward little sister.

He finds her crouched behind a thick stand of bushes, blade in hand and head tilted as she listens to the distinctly beast-like sound that the wind is carrying by. He shuffles his feet just enough for her to hear him as he draws closer. Her eyes cut over to him, recognizing him and relaxing.

"Had a dream about Aslan," she murmurs to him, barely making a sound. "He led me here. Heard the growling, and thought it was Him for a minute, but now I don't think it is."

Peter shakes his head. "That's a Minotaur," he breathes in her ear, and her eyes widen.

Sure enough, a Minotaur soon comes into view wielding a great, double-edged battleax. Peter taps Lucy on the shoulder twice— _Stay here—_ and slips round to engage the beast.

Before he can, there's a very human war cry and then a boy no older than himself is crashing into him with a sword.

To say he's caught off guard would be generous. He was completely unprepared, and he knows that if he lives through this, he's going to get the lecture of his life from his siblings. Speaking of siblings, if he doesn't do something to save himself soon, his youngest is probably going to murder this poor boy the moment she has an opening.

Valiant and Whisper clash on so many subjects, but they tend to be rather in tune with each other when it comes to protecting her siblings.

Unfortunately, his skills with a blade are quite rusty, and it's not long before the youth has Peter's sword in hand. Fortunately, Peter's sword is currently lodged in a tree, and Peter has a rock. He's about to knock the lad out when an army of Narnians flood the clearing, and his eyes widen as he sees Minotaurs and Wolves alongside the Fauns and Centaurs—and every last one of them is aiming their weapon at him. He sees Lucy's blade flash and she slinks closer to him, weapon at the ready.

It's probably a good thing Edmund, Susan, and Trumpkin arrived when they did, because Peter doesn't think it would've been a very good start if he and Lucy murdered the very Prince they've come to save.

* * *

Peter doesn't like that Dwarf. Nikabrik, he says his name is. Edmund swallows hard and stays away from him, Susan doesn't appear to care one way or another, and Lucy is looking at him as though she would like to remove his soul.

So when Nikabrik and Caspian seemingly disappear from the How the evening after they arrive, Peter is understandably concerned.

"Find them," he says shortly.

Edmund's eyes are too cold, and he nods grimly as he melts into the shadows of the How.

His return is not nearly as subtle. He crashes through the doors, and nearly gets Lucy's dagger through his eye for his trouble.

"There's a Hag," he gasps, "and a Werewulf! They're trying to resurrect the Witch!"

Lucy is gone before the sentence is complete, and Peter's not far behind her.

They burst into the Table chamber and Peter stops short at the horrendous sight before him.

There is a wall of ice between the two great pillars, and Jadis herself is suspended in it. Her arm is reaching out of the ice— _Lion's Mane_ —and Caspian is standing before her in a circle drawn on the ground. His arm is outstretched, hand dripping blood, and his eyes are dreamy and distant. He clearly isn't doing this of his own free will.

Peter leaps forwards as Caspian almost touches Jadis' hand. The Hag leaps at him, but Susan is there, tearing the thing off of him and ending its life with fire in her eyes. Edmund is engaging the Werewulf, but it won't last long. Nikabrik is long dead on the floor, eyes wide with surprise, and Lucy's dagger is dripping with his blood as she viciously kicks at the lines of the circle.

She swears. "It won't break, Peter!"

The High King slams into Caspian in response, knocking the young boy out of the circle. "Get away from him!" he shouts, raising Rhindon and _glaring_ at the Witch, the one who still haunts Edmund's sleep with nightmares of ice and snow.

Jadis is not dissuaded in the slightest. "Peter," she coos. "I've missed you. Come on, just one drop. You know you can't do it alone."

He almost laughs. She thought he would fall for _that_?

"Of course I can't," he says patronizingly. Lucy has got Caspian well out of Jadis' sight now, and he can't see Edmund, so he knows it's only a matter of time until Jadis is gone once more. He just has to keep her distracted. "That's what we've got Aslan for, you know."

Her face contorts with rage, and the temperature in the room plummets. "You foolish boy! You think your pathetic _Lion_ will save you? That He can help you? You are alone and weak. There is no possible way for you to win this war! You will watch your siblings die, one by one, before you are finally defeated yourself."

Waves of power roll off the Witch, crushing Peter beneath the weight of them. He staggers, nearly falling, and shakes his head fiercely to rid himself of her words.

"How dare you," Lucy says, and Peter has to fight back a shiver at her tone of voice. "How dare you stand upon these stones, upon this Table, and speak thus. This is where He defeated you. Your hatred was no match for His love, and it never will be. You are dead, Jadis. Aslan defeated you and you are no more."

Peter stands tall again and meets her eyes. "You have no power here, Witch. You are nothing in the face of Aslan's might. Now, in the name of the Lion, be gone!"

Edmund's sword plunges through her waist, and the wretched woman gasps for a long moment before her ice collapses with a horrendous scream. Edmund is there, before the carving of the Lion, sword held high.

Lucy and Susan all but tackle him in their rush to make sure he's alright, but all Peter needs is the small, shaky smile and firm nod of the head. He smiles in return and pulls Caspian off the floor.

"I'm so sorry," the boy stammers, looking horrified, traumatized, and very like he might burst into tears.

"Don't worry about it," Peter says, smiling at him. "Her ice was deadly, yes, but her true power was in her words. She could turn even brother against brother with them. You were bound against your will in a blood spell—you had no choice."

"It's perfectly understandable, Caspian, really," Lucy says earnestly from his other side, grabbing his hand.

Edmund is still dreadfully pale, but he gives the Prince a firm clap on the shoulder.

Susan smiles at him, and Peter can practically see the stars ignite in his eyes.

"Oh, for Aslan's sake," Lu groans quietly, and Peter laughs as Ed just shakes his head with a broad grin.

The Table Chamber suddenly feels much warmer.

* * *

"Alright, so what have we got?" Peter asks.

They're having a war council, hammering out the battle plans.

"You have three options," Lucy says, tapping her fingers on her leg from where she sits upon the Table. "You can dig in here, hold them off indefinitely. The advantage to that is the How is nigh impregnable when it's fully garrisoned, which we have the men to do. The disadvantage, however, is significant: there is no way to get food and fresh water in. The Telmarines could easily starve us out. Your second option is one I would _not_ go with: move your army away from the How, and find somewhere else to set up camp."

Peter looks around the room. "I think, if it's alright with you, Caspian, we can safely rule that one out?"

The Prince gives a quiet laugh and raises both hands. "I know little to nothing of war. If the Valiant says it is not wise, it is not wise."

Lucy smiles at him.

"And the third option?" Edmund asks quietly.

Lucy turns back to the map in front of her. "Attack the Castle itself," she says. "Miraz's men and war machines march on the How. His forces will be much depleted. It's the last thing they'll ever expect. Cut the head off the snake, and the body will die."

Caspian's head comes up. "In all the years that it has stood," he says, "that Castle has never been taken. And there's a reason for that: Miraz has two separate armies: one marches to war, and the other one never leaves the Castle. Ever. That is why so many enemies have fallen within its walls—they were not prepared for the second army."

Lucy bites her lip. "Well, so much for that," she mutters.

Peter sighs, rubbing his eyes. "Look, it's late, and we're not getting anywhere," he says. "Shall we break and reconvene in the morning?"

There's a general muttering of agreement, and most participants of the conversation drift out until only the Four remain.

"If you tweak it a bit, that Castle plan is almost a guaranteed success," Susan says suddenly. She meets Lucy's eyes, and they have a long conversation that consists of raised eyebrows and head tilting.

Lucy nods. "I could do it."

Susan smiles sadly at her. "Of that I have no doubt," she says.

Peter looks back and forth between them. He doesn't like the way Lucy's eyes have gone dark and he doesn't like Susan's sad smile.

"What am I missing?" he asks warily.

Lucy begins to pull her hair back in little braids, and Edmund all but explodes. "No!" he shouts, shoving off the wall and stalking forwards, every inch infuriated warrior King. "No, you _cannot_ do this."

"Yes, I can. That is sort of the point," Lucy replies, unmoved.

"Still a little lost over here," Peter says, now very concerned.

"I go in, I take Miraz out," Lucy shrugs, finishing one tiny plait and moving on to another. "War is over."

Peter sucks in a harsh breath. "No," he says.

Lucy gives him a tiny, cold smile. "I'm not asking," she says. She slides off the Table and walks towards the door. "I'll be back by dinner tomorrow."

Edmund watches her go helplessly, then turns on Susan with blazing eyes that falter and go out when he sees her sitting on the steps of the Table with her head in her hands. He sighs, rakes his hands through his hair, and settles down beside her.

Peter runs after Lucy, and catches her just before she leaves her room, now wearing a black tunic and cloak with a strip of cloth tied over her nose and mouth. Her eyes are almost as black as her clothes.

"Please don't," he says, voice very small. "You don't have to."

She pulls away the cloth and lights the torch in the room, and he realizes that her eyes were only dark because of the shadows in the room.

She smiles at him. "I know I don't have to," she says. "But I can protect both my people and Caspian's this way. One death, and the war is over. It'll be like single combat—one combatant just happens to be unaware of the challenge."

Peter closes his eyes and kisses her forehead. "Come back to us soon," he murmurs, and holds her tight.

She clings to him. "In the name of the Lion, I shall return to you with the setting sun," she whispers, and then she's gone, and the High King can only pray.

* * *

Lucy returns the next night at supper, with Caspian's tutor and Aslan Himself. Caspian and Susan fly forward at the same moment, he to his father-figure, and she to the Lion. Both of them are received with much laughter and joy, and there is a great feast that night.

They ride into the city the next day, and Caspian X is crowned with much dancing and joy. The festivities last the better part of a week, and the changes are already clearly visible in the city. The soldiers are far more relaxed and compassionate. The corrupt and cruel Lords of the Council have been replaced with those who have a heart for the people.

The Queen and her child are well taken care of, and Caspian finds himself bonding with the woman in a way he never would have managed otherwise.

All have heard the legends of the Four Narnian Monarchs, and a cloud of fear follows Lucy around until she's seen in the courtyard, skipping rope with a few Fauns, some Dwarflings, and a good dozen of the homeless children of the city. They're all laughing and shouting and teaching each other new rhymes, and that's that.

Lucy steals the heart of every single person in the city within three days. Peter can only laugh. He's so proud of how far she's come.

* * *

Two days after the celebration ends, Aslan and Caspian call everyone together in the courtyard, Narnian and Telmarine alike.

Peter is almost ready when there's a knock at his door.

"Enter," he calls, bending over to lace up his boots.

A pale blue skirt comes into view, and then Susan is kneeling before him and doing it herself, much faster and tighter.

"Thanks, Su," he says, tugging affectionately at a curl. She shoots him a smile.

"Aslan wants to speak to us before the gathering begins," she says, and takes his hand when he offers it and rises gracefully to her feet.

"Well, we had best not keep the King waiting. Shall we?" he offers her his arm, and she takes it with a smile.

"Indeed, my Lord."

They walk down the hall together, and in spite of all the hustle and bustle going on around them, they are at peace.

Aslan is waiting for them just outside the doors.

"Walk with Me, My children," He says, golden eyes alight with love.

They take up positions on either side, fingers twining into His mane as they walk about the smaller courtyard.

"There comes a time in every child's life when they grow too old for the things of their childhood," Aslan says gently. "They must grow up, and live in a different world."

Peter got a sinking feeling in his stomach. "Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

Susan's face is terribly white, but there are tears in her eyes.

Aslan sighs, suddenly looking very old and very tired. "You have grown up, Peter and Susan. This is the last time you shall ever walk these lands. Narnia was never meant to be yours forever. I brought you here for a purpose: I brought you here to encounter Me. Now you have, and I have a task for you." He turns to look at first one and then the other. "I am not only in this world, Peter, Susan. I am also in your world, but I have another name there. You must learn to call Me by it. Find Me in your world. And remember, Dear Ones, I will never leave you." He gives them each a Lion kiss, and Susan smiles through her tears, stroking His mane.

"Thank you," she says softly. "For all that you have done for us."

He purrs and nudges her affectionately. "You are My children, and I love you more dearly than you can imagine."

She presses even closer, and Peter does the same.

"My allegiance is yours, My King," the boy says softly. "Now until the end of Time itself."

Aslan turned to regard him with those golden eyes. "And never have I doubted it, High King Peter. Once a King or Queen of Narnia, always a King or Queen. You may not walk these lands or sail these waters anymore, but the story that you have been a part of will live long in the heart of Narnia. Well done, My children."

He turns His great head to the side, and they see Caspian quickly backing away, not wanting to interrupt.

"Caspian?" Aslan says, and the boy turns back.

"We are ready," he says. "The last few guests are arriving."

Aslan smiles. "Well, then. Are you ready, My children?"

Peter holds out a hand, and Susan clasps it tightly before they let go and cling to the Lion again. "Aye, my King."

* * *

They wait upon the dais for everyone to arrive and settle in.

Lucy and Edmund arrive soon after the older Pevensies, and their eyes light up when they see the Lion.

Lucy laughs, wild and carefree, and runs to Him. Edmund isn't far behind her, and they fling their arms around Him when they reach Him.

"Oh, Aslan," Lucy whispers fiercely. "I have missed you so."

Edmund just nods into His mane.

He tucks His head over their shoulders and pulls them closer. "I have missed you as well, Dear Ones."

Peter looks out over the people, and his smile widens when he sees how many people are watching the youngest sovereigns with smiles of their own.

Caspian steps forwards nervously, and the Four line up to his left, leaving Aslan to his right.

"Narnia belongs to her own people just as much as she belongs to the Telmarines, if not more," Caspian says firmly. "If you can live in peace with the Narnians, I welcome you to stay! But if you cannot, then Aslan will return you to the lands of our forefathers."

"It's been centuries since we left Telmar!" one man shouts out, and Aslan steps forwards.

"We're not referring to Telmar," He says, and everyone looks very confused. "Your ancestors were sea-faring brigands, run aground on an island. There they found a very rare chasm, which brought them here from their world—the same world as our Kings and Queens."

Peter can feel his eyes getting wide, and Lucy's eyebrows are about to get lost in her hair.

Caspian nods to the Lion and takes over again. "For any who wish it, Aslan can return you to this island."

The Lion bows his head slightly. "It is a good place for any who wish to start anew," He says.

There are nearly a dozen Telmarines who accept the offer, but the others decide to stay. Looking out over all of them, Peter cannot help the hope that flares up in his chest. His Narnia no longer, maybe, but Narnia nonetheless.

Aslan turns and breathes on a mighty oak behind Him, and the beautiful Tree untwists, forming an archway. The Telmarines walk to it, and all of a sudden, they are gone.

Caspian's eyes get very wide, and he stumbles in shock.

There's a lot of shouting and panicking from the Telmarines, which is to be expected, honestly.

Reepicheep steps forward. "Sire, if my example can be of any service, I will take eleven Mice through with no delay."

Aslan's great head turns to Peter, and the eldest of the Four knows with a heartbreaking certainty that this is it.

"We'll go," he says softly, and feels more than sees Edmund jerk in shock.

"We will?" the younger King stares at him.

"Come on," Peter says with a gentle smile. "After all, we're not really needed here anymore." He steps forward and pulls Rhindon from his belt. It might just be the hardest thing he's ever done, handing his Narnia over to another King. He holds it out to Caspian, and the younger boy takes it with a solemn look.

"I will look after it until you return," he vows.

"That's just it," Susan answers. "We're not…coming back."

Lucy stops breathing for a moment. "We're not?" she asks, far too quietly.

"You two are," Peter hurries to reassure her, jerking his head at her and Edmund. "At least, I _think_ He means you two."

Lucy turns to the Lion quickly. "But why?" she cries. "Did they do something wrong?" her face pales suddenly. "It's not because of—"

"No, Dear One," Aslan says, eyes full of love. "Quite the opposite. They have grown up, Lucy."

She still looks horrified, so Peter wraps his arm around her shoulders. "It's alright, Lu," he says. "It's not how I thought it would be, but…" he looks at Susan, and she gives him a tearful smile.

"It's alright," she agrees, kissing Lucy's forehead. "And it really is time to be getting home."

Peter leads the Four to the line of Narnians waiting to say farewell. It's breaking his heart, leaving again, but he knows it is the will of the Lion, and so he will not fight it.

As he turns away from Glenstorm, he sees Lucy and Trumpkin fly forwards in unison and hug each other tightly. He can't fight his smile—he knew it was only a matter of time before the Dwarf succumbed to the pure, bright light that was the youngest Queen.

He puts his hand on Edmund's shoulder, and leads his siblings through the arch. The bright sunlight disappears, the fresh air turns stale, and the beautiful Narnian day becomes a dark, dank English train station.

He can't help the look over his shoulder, and neither can the other three.

They load onto their train in silence, and Lucy burrows between Peter and Susan like she hasn't since she was very small. Edmund tucks into Peter's side, and they stay that way until they are forced to separate when they arrive.

Peter wakes with teary eyes often in the days to come, but he wouldn't trade his memories of Narnia and Aslan for anything.

He knows he'll see the Lion again someday.

That hope is more than enough for him.

* * *

 **And there's chapter two! Like I said, this one was much lighter than the first one. I'm not sure what chapter three is going to look like, but it'll probably be a mix between the two. Not quite as lighthearted as this one, because hello! Dark Island and slavers and sea monsters. So that'll be an adventure.**

 **Anyway! I'm going to try to get the next chapter of I'll Leave the Love up on Saturday. *snorts* (like that'll happen)**

 **So till then!**

 **Keep a weather eye on the horizon!**


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